Today, I received a phone call from my roommate Jamie Macquerrie who tells me that there is a police officer at our house. Officer Sanford is asking if we know someone who owns a Nissan Sentra. The police have traced a black Nissan Sentra that has been left running with the driver door open, parked by the Baskin Robbins. Do I know to whom this car belongs?
Yes, it belongs to Head. Was the car stolen? Had something awful happened to Head?
No, he dropped his car off there to hop in his coworker's car to drive down to Oregon. A lady had seen a man get out of the car 45 minutes before she called the cops, and then Officer Sanford headed to our house, the address on Head's car registration. When I picked up his car, there were two cop cars parked nearby and several officers standing around the car. By now, Head was already in Oregon.
Is it Thomas' fault that he left the car running? No, he can't be held responsible for cars running and doors left open when he is thinking about the Principles by Which Dogs Live. How can you blame a man for his high-mindedness? There just isn't any room in his brain for anything but Great Questions of Life.
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